


Happily Ever After Below the Waist

by texaswatermelon



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-19
Updated: 2011-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-19 14:11:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/texaswatermelon/pseuds/texaswatermelon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Lea lets what she feels out, and mostly in the fashion of a blown gasket, because there isn’t enough room in that tiny body for all of the energy and the giant voice and the huge heart</i> and <i>her emotions, too. Something has to give, and she can’t sing all the goddamn time, so her feelings are the next easiest thing to expel.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Happily Ever After Below the Waist

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with the people described in this story. All events depicted are (presumably) fictional.
> 
> Word Count: 3,669
> 
> A/N: Title is from Fall Out Boy’s Bang The Doldrums. Yes, I know Dianna has a tattoo, but like, she doesn't in this fic, so get over it.

She’s nothing like Quinn Fabray.

Dianna always wonders why people are so surprised by this. As though they can’t comprehend the fact that this is a script she’s reading from; a show; fiction. Real life is not involved here. She’s an actress, so she acts. It’s her job, right? Jesus.

But they’re always surprised. Pleasantly, in general, but sometimes people actually seem _disappointed_ that she’s not a bold, brazen bitch. She doesn’t take risks; doesn’t have sex with people just because she’s drunk and has a low self-esteem. She doesn’t have a dirty past, nothing to dig around in because her mistakes are as shallow as a poorly dug grave. Three boyfriends, only one of which she ever had sex with and that was only because she was naïve enough to think that she might marry him someday. Two piercings: one on each earlobe. Zero tattoos. A handful of swearwords. Very few fights (even when the situations _deserved_ a fight, on her part).

People say this makes her vanilla. Boring. But if sitting in her apartment all day on a Sunday afternoon flipping through old photo albums with a dog in her lap and the curtains open wide and obscure alternative music drifting through the speakers of her iPod dock is boring, then so be it. This is who she is. This is what she loves. And after eighteen years of being whoever her family and her friends and her boyfriends and her employers wanted her to be, she thinks she’s earned the right to just be herself for a while. She has Quinn to help her out if she ever wants to be somebody else.

Lea is different. Lea is all wide smiles and bright eyes in front of the camera, but when it comes to real life, that’s all just a show. Behind closed doors it’s nothing but dangerous smirks, dark glinting eyes and full-bodied laughter. Sure, that other stuff is part of Lea too, but it’s only about a quarter of her. The rest is brash and almost insane. She’s not afraid to jump into the fire, to seek thrills just for the thrill of it. She wears her heart on her sleeve and she doesn’t mind if it gets dirty or broken because she can easily return the favor. What are hearts for, anyway, if not to be broken?

Dianna doesn’t understand much about all of that. She keeps things to herself. She loves tea and honey and quiet afternoons and cemeteries, for God’s sake. Lea loves coffee with a shot of espresso and loud, late-night parties and just, _people_. She flies off the handle at the littlest things, with words that Dianna thinks are only ever used in pornos. She smokes cigarettes. Not very many, because they’re bad for her voice and she knows it. But she smokes them because she can, and sometimes when the day is too long and this one scene is taking forever and she’s hungry and tired, she just needs _a goddamn cigarette, okay?_

By all logical accounts and every article on psychology that Dianna’s ever read, their friendship shouldn’t work. Sometimes, it doesn’t. Sometimes Lea is just in a bad mood and she doesn’t really give a shit about what Dianna’s fucking dog did last night and she snaps. Sometimes Dianna is tired and has a headache and Lea is being obnoxiously loud and if she swears one more time, Dianna is going to flip. She doesn’t, of course, because that’s not her style. Instead, she finds an empty corner and sits there sulkily with her headphones in and the music turned up as loud as it can so as to drown out that annoying voice and closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to watch Lea flirting with everything that moves.

Sometimes they don’t talk for days. But in the end, one of them always shows up at the other’s door unannounced with a bottle of wine and a movie and they lay on the couch on top of each other, absently stroking hair and skin until they fall asleep. So, in general, the friendship does work.

There’s an unspoken attraction between them. Both of them know this because one night they’d had too much wine and Lea’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes were dark and she looked gorgeous and Dianna told her so. Lea kissed her, then. It was short and it tasted like cherries and cigarettes. Dianna wanted more, but she never said so and Lea never continued. She just sat back against the couch and lit up another cigarette, her third and last of the night. It was never awkward after that, but both of them know that this thing between them exists, this tension that’s both sexual and not sexual and acts like a magnet, always pulling them back together again.

In many ways, Dianna envies Lea. She is a lot of things that Dianna wishes she was and a lot of things that she doesn’t. Dianna knows that she’s just not built the same way that Lea is; her soul just isn’t meant for the same types of things that Lea’s is. She doesn’t really mind it, because there are a lot of things about herself that she enjoys. Instead, she keeps Lea close and soaks her in so that when Lea says or does something that Dianna wishes she could do, all she has to do is just absorb whatever comes out of Lea. And in return, when Dianna does or says something that Lea wishes she could do, or, as is most often the case, when Dianna _doesn’t_ do or say something that Lea wishes she _didn’t_ do, all she has to do is absorb that as well.

And so it goes, a cycle that they lead like two symbiotic bacteria feeding off of one another. Sometimes it feels satisfying. Sometimes it feels like destruction. Mostly, it just is, and both of them know and accept this fact. They both know that as time goes on their appetites for each other grow, and that while they’re friendship is enough for now, it’s starting to not be. If they’re going to keep feeding, they need to produce more food, because if there is one thing that they both have in common, it’s that they both feel everything too much, just in different ways. Dianna keeps what she feels inside of her because there’s enough space in there for almost all of it. Lea lets what she feels out, and mostly in the fashion of a blown gasket, because there isn’t enough room in that tiny body for all of the energy and the giant voice and the huge heart _and_ her emotions, too. Something has to give, and she can’t sing all the goddamn time, so her feelings are the next easiest thing to expel.

Dianna won’t be the first to say it, that their relationship has to change in some way soon, because otherwise they’re going to use everything they have up and they’ll be nothing but lifeless shells, and angry at each other for the fact. There are only two options: be more or be nothing at all, and the thought of losing Lea makes her chest feel like it’s caved in on itself. She knows that Lea knows these things, but Lea is a rare beast, like a lion that will allow itself to be tamed, but only slowly. If she pushes too hard or too fast, she’s likely to wind up as dinner. As it is, she’s already constantly afraid that Lea is going to swallow her whole.

Lea tells her one day that she loves her. It’s not some romantic overture like they would do in _Glee_. They’re at Lea’s place, on opposite ends of the couch. Dianna has her legs stretched out so that her feet just barely touch Lea’s thigh. She’s flipping through one of Lea’s old year books, pointing out people that she thinks are pretty or handsome or just odd. Lea has her feet up on the coffee table, rigorously working to take the polish off of her toe nails that she had just done two days ago because she’s already bored with it.

“I forgot about her,” Lea grunts for about the tenth time.

“That’ll be us in twenty years,” Dianna laughs, though she doesn’t really find the thought funny.

“No. You don’t forget people you love.”

She almost doesn’t catch it, wouldn’t have if Lea would have kept talking. But she’s silent after that and when she looks up, she doesn’t smirk or smile or laugh at all, and that’s how Dianna knows that she means _in love_ rather than just love, like family or a pet. She only nods then to show Lea that she understands what was being said, and they don’t talk about it after that.

Then one night they’re at Dianna’s place, which used to be Dianna and Lea’s place, but now it isn’t. The tour wrapped a few weeks ago and they’ve got some time off, so they’ve mostly been spending it with their families. Lea just got back from New Jersey last night, so naturally she’s at Dianna’s tonight to hang out. They were going to watch a movie, maybe, but after they sit down with a glass of wine each and start talking about their trips, they decide they don’t feel like it. Well, Lea doesn’t anyway, and Dianna doesn’t care enough to argue.

They’re on the couch, Lea between Dianna’s legs while Dianna plays with silky dark hair that she just pulled out of a bun minutes ago. Lea is talking about her mom, and how even though she’s really proud of her, she liked it better when Lea was on Broadway because then at least she was closer.

“Yeah, my mom said the same thing,” Dianna says quietly. “Not about Broadway, obviously, but about being far away.”

Lea laughs and her whole body shakes for a moment, which causes Dianna to lose the hair she’d just gathered. Once the small frame settles, she picks it back up again.

“Imagine us on Broadway together, Di,” she says happily.

“I’m sure I wouldn’t like it, from what you’ve told me. Touring was hard enough.”

Lea takes a sip of her wine and offers the glass back to Dianna. “No, touring isn’t the same,” she says once the glass is back on the table. “Broadway is better because it’s the same stage, same city. And that city loves you when you’re on Broadway. It would be amazing: sold out shows every night, belting our hearts out on the stage, showing up at obligatory parties only to leave an hour later and go back to our apartment where we’d make passionate love to each other on every surface before crawling into bed and passing out until sometime the next afternoon.”

Dianna is silent, because this is one of those moments where Lea is trying to move their relationship and she doesn’t want to influence the direction either way. Lea will take them wherever she wants to go, and trying to resist is both futile and dangerous, Dianna has found. Her hands are raking through Lea’s hair softly while she waits for whatever’s coming next.

“You would hate it,” Lea says finally, and her voice is clear, but soft. “But you would do it, for me.” It’s not phrased as a question, but Dianna knows that it is one.

“Yes,” she whispers, and her hands have finally stilled on Lea’s back where her skin isn’t covered by her tank top.

It’s smooth and warm there. Lea exhales at length, shakily. She doesn’t say anything for a very long time, but her body is visibly tense. Dianna wonders if she’ll stay silent for the rest of the night and finally decides to say something, the only thing that will come out of her mouth when there’s this much emotion in her heart.

“Lea?”

“Kiss me, Dianna,” she says after a moment, and it sounds both sure and unsure at the same time.

Dianna recognizes this as one of the rare moments when Lea wants something that she’s almost too afraid to take because she knows that there’s so much force inside of herself that she might not be able to control it and she’ll end up breaking something. It’s times like these where she gives Dianna the directions and lets her carry out the plans with her careful mind and tender hands.

Lea doesn’t move at all, except to breathe, and even then it’s stiff and shallow, so Dianna takes the reins and does what she needs to do. Her hand sweeps softly across the tanned skin of Lea’s back, brushing the heavy strands over her right shoulder. She lowers her head slowly and places the lightest of kisses on Lea’s shoulder, right over top of the tiny music notes embedded in her skin. Lea’s entire body relaxes and she arches her back up closer.

“Again,” she sighs, and Dianna complies because she can’t even think of how many times she’s wanted to kiss Lea there, right on that spot. Secretly, she loves Lea’s tattoos because they are the truest essence of her and her inability to keep things on the inside. Everything has to be on display. And while Dianna doesn’t really care for tattoos that much and she thinks that nine of them might be a little excessive, Lea wouldn’t be Lea without them.

She kisses her again, slow open-mouthed kisses that work their way across the expanse of smooth skin. Her hands are resting on Lea’s waist, but they start to slide up her sides, taking the thin tank top material with them. Lea lifts her arms like they weigh two tons each when Dianna’s hands reach the sides of her breasts, and soon the shirt is fluttering noiselessly to the floor. Dianna resumes her exploration of Lea’s back and her hands smooth over toned shoulders, sliding the straps down Lea’s arm.

At the base of Lea’s neck, Dianna dips her tongue out to taste skin: clean with just a hint of salt. Lea moans quietly, head falling forward even more. Dianna’s hands are roaming ceaselessly over heated flesh and Lea can’t help but shiver because her hands are cold as usual and her hair is tickling the exposed skin of her back. Still, she groans when Dianna’s phone rings and the blonde stops abruptly to answer it. It’s her mom, and Dianna _always_ stops whatever she’s doing to talk to her mom. The conversation is retardedly long, in Lea’s opinion, and by the time it’s over, Lea has her shirt back on and her keys in hand.

“I’m really sorry,” Dianna says in a rush of breath when she hangs up, and she truly looks it. “Once she starts talking, she doesn’t stop and she hates when I don’t answer the phone.”

Lea tries to act like she isn’t so worked up that she’s going to have to go home and get herself off now. “It’s okay. I should go anyway. I have to get up early to go shopping with Groff anyway.”

Dianna nods and stands up, looking down at Lea with those expressive hazel eyes of hers. Lea brushes the hair behind her face and stands on her toes, pressing their lips together properly. Dianna sighs against her face when they part and her breath is so sweet that Lea thinks she may never leave if she doesn’t do it now. So she does, and she doesn’t see Dianna for the next two days, though they text quite frequently about things that don’t matter.

When they’re out shopping, a very attractive agent-looking man asks Lea for her number, but she refuses, claiming that she’s with someone. The man looks to Groff, who shakes his head, but offers his number instead. Surprisingly, the guy takes it. Groff eyes Lea suspiciously when he leaves, but she isn’t paying attention. She’s too busy texting someone, and if Groff knows anything about Lea, he’s pretty sure he knows who it is by the smirk that crosses Lea’s face.

Dianna takes Sunday to hang out with Heather, Naya, and Chris. They eat on Colorado Boulevard because there’s a vegan place there that Dianna loves. Naya complains that her body needs meat to survive, but Heather punches her in the arm and she shuts up, still rolling her eyes when they get the menu. After that, they wander around and check out little shops along the way.

On Thursday, she gets a text: _Come over. Bring chocolate._

When she shows up at Lea’s door with a box of vegan chocolate in her hand, she nearly chokes on her own breath to find Lea standing there with a tight red, low cut dress on that looks more like lingerie than anything. Lea grins and grabs her hand, tugging gently to bring her inside. The lights are low and Iron & Wine is drifting softly through the apartment. Lea leads her to the kitchen where there are candles and food and wine and Dianna realizes with a flood of embarrassment and excitement that this is a date.

“Lea…” she breathes, but Lea shakes her head and brushes her thumb across Dianna’s jaw line.

“You’re not like me. You can’t just jump into something with all lust and no romance without hating yourself. So, this is me trying to be romantic. I’m not really sure how it all works, since I’m usually the one being romanced and I usually hate it, but Groff gave me a few pointers, so if it sucks, you can blame him.”

Dianna realizes that Lea is kind of nervous, and kisses her to shut her up. Her stomach feels fluttery and she can’t stop the smile that spreads across her face. She feels like a freshman on her first date with a pretty senior boy, but this is Lea, and she already loves her, and they certainly aren’t teenagers.

They sit down and eat, and while they’re eating, they talk about the same sort of things that they would talk about if they were just out on the town having dinner together as best friends. Dianna smiles, because she realizes that they are best friends, and that’s why loving Lea is so easy. Too easy, and it scares her to think that she’s this far in for someone that’s she’s just now having her first date with. She doesn’t like to fall, and falling for Lea is doubly as frightening because Lea is just as likely to catch her as she is to let her hit rock bottom. Dianna isn’t made to survive those kinds of falls.

They have the chocolate for dessert. When Lea kisses her again, it’s to get the leftover chocolate off of her bottom lip. It turns into something much more than that, and they find themselves on Lea’s couch, kissing as languidly as though they’ve been doing it for months. Metaphorically, they have been.

Lea is surprisingly gentle, and she knows that Dianna expected her to be forceful and controlling like she always is, but she doesn’t feel the need to be tonight. She knows that sometimes she acts like a bull in a china shop, but she also knows that Dianna is more fragile and more priceless than any type of dishware, so she tries to be careful. No one would ever forgive her if she were the one to break Dianna Agron’s heart. She wouldn’t forgive herself.

Dianna is surprisingly forceful. Kissing Lea makes muscles clench in her body that she didn’t even know existed and she wants to feel more. Wants to make Lea feel more. She knows that people like to think of her as a porcelain doll, pretty but not to be played with. She used to play football with the boys when she was little, and she used to get dirty and she’s gotten burned before and survived. Of course, if Lea ever broke her heart, she’d probably never breathe again, but she likes Lea because she’s Lea, and she doesn’t want her to think that she has to be anything but herself for Dianna’s sake.

Eventually they’re lying down and Lea is holding her from behind, singing softly in her ear. It’s beautiful, more beautiful than anything she’s ever heard before, because Lea is singing it for her and not for anyone else. When Lea asks Dianna to sing for _her_ , Dianna does and Lea sighs like a happy puppy that knows life is good.

“Do you think this will work?” Lea asks, and by this time Dianna thought she was asleep so she’s slightly startled by the voice in her ear and the breath on her neck.

“I don’t know,” she admits after a while. “It is kind of unlikely. Like if Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray were to suddenly get together on the show.”

“We’re not our characters,” Lea says with slight irritation and Dianna laughs. “Besides, we don’t hate each other.”

“No. But we are different. It might be hard.” Dianna doesn’t like this thought because while Lea is always up for a challenge, Dianna hates to have to fight. In the end, it would be just as likely for her to ruin the relationship as Lea.

“If it’s easy it’s not worth doing,” is Lea’s reply, which is so typical of her that it makes Dianna smile.

“I don’t know,” she repeats. “But I know that I love you. I know I want to try, if you do.”

“Hey, I don’t do romance for just anyone,” Lea says, and chuckles when Dianna laughs. Then she’s serious again. “I love you, too. And I do want to try. But I also don’t want to lose my best friend.”

“Me either. But we won’t know unless we get to that point. So, let’s not get there,” Dianna offers.

“Yeah,” Lea sighs, fitting herself more tightly against Dianna’s body. “Let’s not.”


End file.
